Tunnel Vision
by Enigma Nox
Summary: ten years after Mday, the mutant population is on the rise again, and so is organised crime. Mostly OC's with main character cameos. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW
1. The Life of Moss

**Tunnel Vision:** _The life of Moss_

A/N: I've decided that someone needed to follow the less recognized characters of the X-Men verse. So I created two of my own main characters (and some minor ones) to interact with some of Marvel's "forgotten" characters. Mostly the Morlocks, Wicked, and maybe a few more, random mutants (if y'all don't kill me for not having any accurate history...I don't know everything about everyone.) And main Marvel characters will most likely have short cameos here and there. Also this is set in the near future(2015?), so after M-Day, but the mutant population is rising quickly. And I am taking a lot of creative liberties with this(i.e. people who should be 20-30-something, are still in their late teens, etc.)

Disclaimer: I don't claim any X-Men character(but I want Gambit) but I do claim Lux and Moss, and most members of Slave, so don't steal them...they are mine. (And I've never been to New York -or anywhere on the north-east coast - so don't get mad if my facts are wong.)

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He looked normal enough, greasy brown hair, green-grey eyes, and a day's worth of growth on his square chin. But Moss wasn't normal, and not just because of his name. Moss was a mutant. A mutant with a frightening ability, literally. He had the ability to mold kinetic energy into physical forms, but not without a blueprint. He got the blueprints from peoples minds, their nightmares the demons and monsters in their minds, they were his pets. Moss, or Figment as he called himself when he used his ability, was a dangerous man. But today, he walked the streets of Queens, looking like everyone else. Well, every other homeless seventeen year-old who lived in the city's underground tunnels. Not that many of the others could show themselves Topside, but most homeless people looked like they lived down there too. Ten years ago the mutant population dropped by ninety eight percent in one day, now the mutant population was on the rise again, with New York being home to the largest number of mutants in the world. Yet New York was the least tolerant of free mutants. Before what was now called M-Day, a mutant named Charles Xavier promoted peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants, now years after his death, everything was regulated and monitored. Mutants were forced to be registered with the government in order to be considered a citizen. Registering required having a name and address, a birth certificate or proof of identity, Moss had none of those things. So he didn't register.

He knew he was lucky, he looked normal enough to walk Topside and not be turned in for lack of registration ID, but he didn't feel lucky. He couldn't go to a grocery store to buy food, or a restaurant and buy dinner, instead of letting his girlfriend pay. It's not that he didn't have money- he worked eight hours a day at a comic book shop downtown- but he didn't have ID, human or mutant "Nothing can be purchased without verification of ID." Moss's Manager's words echoed in his head. Moss had gotten a break, getting a job without ID, but he knew it wouldn't have been possible if his "foster" brother, didn't know the boss's dealer. And not the kind that dealt in rare comic books. The boss was a lackey in some underground mutant service group, Shade, or Slave, Moss wasn't sure. But he did know that he wanted no part in it. But they always seemed to be around, like today. As Moss approached the shop, he saw the boss hand a roll of twenties to the dealer, a man Moss knew only as Slyp. The man supposedly worked closely with one of the three bosses of slave, and Moss tried to stay out of his way as much as possible, so he picked up the broom that leaned against the window and began sweeping. Soon the door opened and Moss realized Slyp had not been alone this time. Today he walked out, as usual, in a brown leather trench coat over a business suit, reflective sunglasses and dress shoes, but he was closely followed by a young woman. She couldn't have been more than sixteen, but she was tall, only a few inches shorter than her companion, who seemed around six feet. Her hair was black with streaks of bleach blond and crimson red, and cut in random strands of varying lengths. She wore a similar coat, but in black, as was most of her outfit. A pair of worn out Vans were partially covered by the flare of the black cotton pants that hung loosely around her waist. Moss's eyes traveled over her as the pair stopped in front of the door to argue face to face. Her burgundy halter top was almost as eye catching as the bare midriff it exposed. They were yelling now and Moss kept his head down, so as to avoid any conflict.

"Nightmare, please try to understand," Slyp was trying to be soothing but his voice reminded Moss of a chainsaw.

"Stewart gave me orders to bring you along, and keep you close. You need to learn this kind of stuff, Lux."

"I don't take orders from Stewart, Yuri. And I'm not learning your trade! I will not have any part in hurting anyone, even if they pay for it. When Wicked finds out, you're toast with butter, Slyp." she spun away and charged off in Moss's direction. Moss was still so entranced, he failed to realize he was standing directly in her path. That is, until she shoved his shoulder, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She looked at him then her hands, with a look of horror, one that was mimicked by Moss. But for an entirely different reason.

He thought he heard someone mutter a string of colorful curse words, but he couldn't be sure. Moss was no longer on a sleepy sidewalk in Queens, he was back home. Not home in the tunnels with his surrogate family, but back in Atlantic city, New Jersey with his twin brother.

_"What are you? You're a freak! Get away from me!" Samson yelled as he backed away from me._

_"Sam, I, I, I don't know what's going on! I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" we were twelve years old, and identical twins. Well identical, except that I was now, apparently, a mutant. I mean normal humans don't produce glowing monsters from there hands._

_"You're a mutie and you just tried to kill me! You're not my brother anymore, freak!" Sam backed out the door and slammed it, just as I was about to follow. I reached for the door handle, but I heard Sam moving furniture in front of the door. I was locked in my bedroom with no idea what was happening. Sam had walked away and I heard him returning now. He was mumbling something about how "It was worth it" and that "They would understand." But I didn't understand. My mind became clearer when the air inside began to blacken with smoke_

_'_He's burning me alive, he's trying to kill me! What did I do wrong?_' I began to panic. Our parents were away at on business trip, and wouldn't be back until late that night, and the fire department would almost certainly be too late to help me. So I sat down on my bed and began to cry, all feelings of fear and panic, replaced bu self-pity and a sense of betrayal. Not just betrayal by Sam, but also my parents and even my genes themselfs. I had been raised in a community that hated mutants, we were taught to hate mutants, and now I was one of them. And suddenly, I couldn't hate them anymore. The room was now filled with black smoke, and I felt my lungs burning. It was only when the flames crept under the door and caught the rug on fire, that I realized that I could jump out the window, but to what end? My brother was trying to kill me and my parents and all my friends were going to hate me. What was the point of living. My vision was starting to blur and blacken around the edges, and my thoughts were coming as a jumbled mess. Maybe that's why there was suddenly another person in the room with me. He didn't look right though, he seemed to be made of dark blue-black liquid - kind of like the "lava in a Lava lamp- he had no features whatsoever and it took me a while to recognize him. It was a man that had haunted my nightmares for years, the X-Man, Wolverine. He was coming toward me, claws extended, but he stopped a few feet from me and charged at the window. It shattered and he disappeared, like the smoke that rushed out into the open air after him. My head began to clear, and I noticed the fire was also headed quicky toward the open window, like a vacuum effect. I knew I had to choose, die by fire, or maybe live by jumping out a two story window. I didn't want to live, I had nothing to live for, but something clicked in my oxygen-starved brain,_

'The man I've feared, the most dangerous mutant on the planet, just saved my life. Or gave me a better chance, at least._' that had to be worth something. _

_So I ran to the window, and jumped, apparently still not thinking too clearly. I landed hard on my arm and heard my elbow crack, as it hit a slab of concrete in among the flowers and weeds._

'Well isn't that ironic? "Samson" just broke my elbow.'_ I looked at the concrete culprit. It was one of those things every mother had in her flower garden, a tile with her kids baby hand prints on it and something cheesy like "Mom's little helping hands" scrawled on it. Sam's hand print was on the left, with his name in the middle, mine, was on the right, but where it should have read "Elias" was a coating of thick green moss. _

'I can't be Elias Carson anymore, as far as anyone else knows, he's dying in that fire right now. I'll be Moss. That's what this thing says anyway. So I'll be Moss and I'll leave New Jersey, I'll go somewhere where I can be with people like me.' _so that was it. I slipped through the gate into the park and headed toward the bus stop, cradling my arm._

_"Moss!" a loud, whiney, but male voice. I shook my head._

'That's not supposed to happen.' _I thought_. _then everything faded out,_ _and the scene around me was not a park in New Jersey, but a store front in Queens New York. I wasn't twelve years old anymore_, _and my boss was yelling at me._

"Moss! Boy, I don't_ pay_ you to stand there like a dumb idiot. _So_ either, keep sweeping or get _inside_ and do some_ real _work. But no more _staring_ after the girl, she's _long_ gone and _way_ out of your league." Vic liked to stress words he thought were important, could be a side effect of the drugs.

"What the fuck happened?" Moss asked groggily, subconsciously rubbing his elbow, having apparently dropped the broom.

"What _happened_ is you had a run in with Wicked's _golden girl_, also a _mutant_, and she gave you a _brain blast_ or some such and took _off_."

"Huh? Who's Wicked?"

"Who's- She's the leader of the _Phantom_ branch of _Slave_."

"Vic, I don't know anything about Slave. Other than it's got three "bosses" and Slyp works for one of them."

"Here's_ not_ a good place to talk about _Slave_, lets go_ inside_."

"I don't want to know anything Vic. The more you know about a thing the more you're involved. And I don't want to be involved."

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A/N: Ok, so... How's that? More soon(maybe) hopefully shorter chapters and more on Lux, and Slave...Did anyone else detect some foreshadowing? MWAHAHAH! Please review.

E'Nox


	2. The Life of LuxYuri

**Tunnel Vision:** _The Life of Lux-Yuri_

A/N: Luxury, Lux-Yuri, get it? I hope this chapter clears some stuff up. (I had a rough time with the first chap.) This chapter is sort of a continuation of the first, as there isn't much plot advancement, just character and plot introductions and back ground. Lux's powers will be explained, as will the basics of Slave. Please read and review.

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"What happened to 'specialized branches' Stewart?" Lux lashed out at the freakishly tall red-headed man as soon as she walked through the doors of the dilapidated old Victorian home that was Slave headquarters. The Irishman stood and looked at her squarely.

"Luxury, please,"

"Is that some standard Outlaw catch phrase? 'Cus I swear I heard those same words from Ivan the Retard, just ten minutes ago." Lux cut her superior off with a sweeping gesture at the dejected looking Yuri, who had followed her into the boss's house.

"Nightmare!" Stewart bellowed. Yuri flinched, Lux just smiled. " I asked Slyp t' take you t' the deal bec'use, despite 'specialized branches', ya'r talents can be of use t' me in me 'specialization'. T' know ones fears is t' have a power ov'r them, t' have a power ov'r someone is t' be able to trust them. I need t' be able to trust the people I associate wit'. I'm sure ya understand." Lux's smile dropped as the giant stepped closer, forcing her back against a wall, boxing her in with his arms on either side of her head. But she did not allow her voice to betray her underlying fear of the man before her.

"One, that's blackmail, not trust. Two, I don't know peoples fears, I know their worst memories, and those aren't always the best for blackmail. Though, I do think I've got some good blackmail on you, or do you care if I tell Wicked what really happened to that shipment of supplies she sent back to Genosha? You know the ones that were in that plane you had shot down because you thought it was full of your competitor's drugs? No? Lets just call her down here and let her know why the Genoshian government blames her for that pilots life, that OK with you?" the smile returned as a look of fear came over Stewart's face, and he pulled away slightly.

"Stewart? Do you want to explain why you have a Phantom up against a wall?" Spiral appeared in the doorway, Wicked joined her seconds later, both having just missed the preceding conversation. Stewart's face hardened again with the arrival of his colleagues.

"Lux?" Wicked looked over her protégée inspecting her for injury.

"I'm fine boss, just mad." Lux said as she shrugged out from under Stewart's arm.

"Now if you all will excuse me, I've got panels to finish and turn in to the colorist, so I'll be heading back to the boarding house. Unless you need me Boss." Lux headed toward the door, but turned back to her boss.

"Go Nightmare. I'll call you if anything comes up, but if you're on a deadline with that book, I can call in Fly." Wicked smiled at the girl.

'_She's grown so much since she came to us. It's almost too bad the X-Men didn't realize her potential._

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Vic leaned over the counter toward Moss, who had to suppress the urge to barf because his boss' breath was so bad.

" You might not _want_ to be_ involved_, but_ you_ already _are_. Just by having this _job_ you're involved. So you _best_ know at least _something_."

_'Someone needs to get him off the drugs, 'cus that's starting to get annoying.' _Moss thought as he prepared to tune out.Vic slapped him accross the face.

"Hey what was that for?!" Moss asked in shock.

"I know _that_ look. You're not _zoning_ out this _time_." came the shaky, stinky reply.

"First _things _first._ Slave_ is run by_ three _powerful _mutants_, each has _five generals _who in turn have their_ own _contacts throughout the_ city."_

"You mean lackeys" Moss interjected completely deadpan.

"No_. Contacts_. Anyway, the_ three _leaders split into _three _specialized _groups_."

"No four." Moss rolled his eyes

_'If I have to listen, I might as well torture him as well.'_

Vic cleared his throat

"Spiral runs the _Strike_ branch. Wicked runs the _Phantom_ branch and Stewart runs the _Outlaws. _Strike is _assassin _and personal protection work. _Phantoms_ do spy,_ messenger _and _thieving _services._ Outlaws_ work in drug dealing and counterfeiting. _You _know that girl that brings in the panels for the _SparkFire_ books? She's a Phantom, which means the panels you do colors for are _drawn_ and _written_ by a mutant. Phantoms only do messenger work for_ mutants_."

He left Moss to ponder that idea, and went in the back, where he kept the "X"- rated comics

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_'Ok. Now for something that isn't a colossal waste of my life.' _Lux thought as she stripped off her coat and slung it over the arm of the sofa, simultaneously kicking off her shoes. She pushed a button on the stereo and settled in an armchair as the sound of Chevelle filled the living room.From under the armchair, she pulled out her writing desk with the splash page clipped to the top. Lux sighed and brushed her colorful hair out of her eyes. Stunning eyes that got her attention where ever she went. They had been dull brown, but when her mutation surfaced, they had lightened to an almost gold color. Everyone loved Luxury's eyes, except Luxury. To her they were a mark of the horrible day that led to her being sent away from the only foster home where she had ever felt happy. She settled down in her chair and began inking her comic book.

A while later a cell phone rang and seconds later another girl rushed into the living room.

" Oh! Lux, you're home. I've got to go, Wicked needs me for something, so I cant deliver you're comic book, is that ok?" the fourteen-year-old Fly was as jittery as her namesake, with wings to match. But also like her namesake, she was a great spy.

Lux sighed again, and considered her options. Fly began to hop from foot to foot, waiting for a reply.

"Yeah, no problem, I can take it I guess. I'll finally be able to talk to the colorist about the inconsistencies."

Fly nodded and flitted out the door. Lux turned back to the cover she'd been working on and scribbled a final letter onto the title. _SparkFire._

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A/N: ok there it is finally... well no one was really waiting for it but hey! I can dream right? Anyway! Sorry if its kinda choppy. I wrote the first part then took like two months off then finished it late at night. So bear with me. Ally I guess I'm really just talking to you for now, but hey, you understand my craziness... or at least you can pretend to really well. Ok for all of you new to this story(probably no one) reviews are welcome...(I should make them mandatory, just so I feel better) ok good luck and good night.

E'Nox


	3. When Two Things Collide

**Tunnel Vision: **_When Two Things Collide_

A/N: Why do I bother? Well I get the urge to humiliate myself on the internet, and so I decide to write random things that no one reads. Well no one but the select few good people in the world, one of which doesn't know how to give a helpful review. (you know who you are) so that is why I bother, though I'm not sure that last part made a lot of sense. On with the underappreciated (and rather well written - if I do say so myself) story! (( mind you, this probably only makes sense in my head))

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Anyone on the street would have thought she was just singing along, what with the music turned up so loud that they could hear every screamed word, and her near silent mumbling. But Luxury Sims was merely, mentally running through her day to find out if she'd done something to make, whatever higher power there was, hate her.

'_First Yuri, then that poor guy. Now I have to go back to the same comic shop and that will compromise the _"anonymous" _part of my writing career. Today officially sucks.' _Lux thought angrily as she trudged down the semi-crowded street, portfolio under her arm, iPod blasting in her studded ears.

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'_Speaking of the SparkFire_ _book, the panels should be in by now.' _Moss began doodling a character from the book absentmindedly. He'd hardly heard a sound from Vic all day after that mornings "chat", aside from the low moans, that meant he was enjoying his drugs, and his adult merchandise. At that point, Moss had put a CD in the stereo. It had played six times through before Vic came out again and announcing to the (nonexistent) costumers, that it was closing time then making a drunken exit. Moss looked at his doodle doubtfully, then glanced at the door. With a shake of his head, he gathered up his things and headed out the door.

'_Well if the publisher complains about the book being late, its not my fault. I cant color panels if they don't show. But what if it is my fault?' _Moss fumbled with the keys to the shop, too lost in thought to notice someone rushing towards him.

' _Vic said the girl from this morning and the messenger are both in Slave, what if what happened this morning got them in trouble and that's why the panels weren't delivered. But, that's got nothing to do with the writer. They could deliver the pages themself, but they're probably a self centered recluse_, _with a people allergy.'_

"Hey Dreamer-Boy!" Moss' head snapped around.

"I've only been calling you for the last minute and a half. You closing?"

Moss' jaw dropped in surprise. Two golden eyes stared intently up at him through long crimson and gold bangs.

"You! W-w-what do you want?!" Moss demanded, dropping his keys. Lux's shoulders fell dragging the corners of her mouth with them.

"Look, I'm sorry 'bout this morning. It was a freak accident and I'm sorry, ok?" Something in her face told Moss she was sincere, but he couldn't let his anger go that easily.

"Sorry?! That's all you got for me?"

"A-a-actually-"

"You make me live through that again and all you can say is sorry?!"

"Yes, sorry is all I've got. Because you know what, it was my fault, but there's nothing I can do about it now. And I am sorry, sorry your life is so fucked up that you can't even accept an honest apology!" she was shouting again, like she had this morning and suddenly Moss felt small, even though he towered over her at six foot four.

"Ok, sorry, that was stupid. You needed something?" Moss sighed, and tried to smile. Lux grinned and held out a portfolio Moss hadn't noticed before.

"I know I'm supposed to get these here before closing, so they can get to the colorist, but I had a busy day and my messenger had to run another errand, so do you think I can just drop them inside so the guy can get them tomorrow?" Her grin turned sheepish, almost embarrassed.

"I'll take them," Moss said with a laugh.

_'She's the Writer? Ah cruel fate.' _Lux looked up at him quizzically.

"You're Night Sims, aren't you? I'm Eli Carsons, your Colorist."

"Ohhh." Lux inhaled sharply through her teeth

"I thought I was having a rough day. But poor you. I will completely understand if you hate me now." she hung her head and two small braids fell into her eyes. Moss had to resist the urge to push them aside to see her face.

"Well first you attack me then you make me wait all day for these," he patted the portfolio, which he now held.

"But the most I could do would be to ask you how you did that to me this morning, I don't think could hate you. Well not now that I know that you could put me out of my most well paying job." Lux looked up at him again and smirked, then she looked around at the few people on the sidewalk.

"Here isn't the place to talk about those kind of things, but I think I owe you an explanation, so... inside?" she bent over and grabbed the forgotten keys, and dangling them on her little finger. Moss snatched them and unlocked the door again, ushering her inside. Once inside, he guided her to the drawing room/employee lounge. She promptly flopped down on the beat up sofa and Moss opened the portfolio on his worktable.

"You mind if I work while you explain? Catch up on lost time?" he smiled.

"Oh make me feel more guilty why don't you?" Lux exaggerated a sigh. He grimaced.

Lux laughed and launched into her story.

"Ok I know I sound like a total girly-girl, recounting every second of my day but it's important so bear with me. Basically today was my day off, so you can imagine I was pissed when Yuri showed up and dragged me on a deal that isn't even in my job description. My last foster father said I needed anger management, but that s not the point. My power, works through my skin, a lot like the X-Man, Rogue, if you've heard of her." She waited for Moss to nod, then continued,

"This morning I was dragged out of my apartment so suddenly that I didn't get my gloves on," she held up a hand and Moss notices it was covered in a skintight tan leather glove. Then, gesturing to his hunter green muscle shirt, she carried on.

"So when I shoved you out of my way, our skin touched and triggered my power."

"Which is what exactly?" Moss turned away from his worktable to face her.

"When I touch people, they relive their worst memories, and I see flashes of it, like your brother trying to kill you." Moss flinched.

"Sorry I brought it up, but are you really afraid of Wolverine?, he always seemed nice-ish to me."

"Well, yea- wait. You know him? As in personally?" Moss shook his head in disbelief.

_'She doesn't seem like the X-Men type.' _Moss thought, remembering all his childhood lessons that portrayed the mutants as cruel, and unfair vigilantes. Lux shrugged and cocked her head to the side, causing the diamond stud above her eyebrow to glint in the fluorescent lights above.

"Yeah. I used to live at the Xavier Institute."

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A/N: Well, I hope all of you nonexisting readers enjoyed that , and you two kind people who actually care too. I have a great idea for the next chapter so that should be coming soon... hopefully. To all who read this and think they are too good to review, A CURSE ON YOU! In laymen terms, please review. Don't think that if you don't review , I'll stop, 'cus I won't... I like this story too much.

E'Nox


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